A silly love song
by Sylvia Viridian
Summary: Yohji watches Aya, who watches Yohji. Sappy and fluffy beyond belief, but I guess maybe some people aren't tired of that...hence the title, from a Moulin Rouge song lyric. Shounen ai, one shot.


Sylvia: This fic is going to be horribly cliché and generic, as well as fluffy and cute. I considered apologizing for this fact, but then I remembered a lyric from Moulin Rouge:

Voice 1: You'd think people would have had enough of silly love songs.  
Voice 2: I look around me, and I see it isn't so, no.

So I figured the same applied to silly fluff fics. This is unabashedly fluffy and sweet. I make no excuses. If you don't like that idea, leave now. You have been warned.

…I've never written for this fandom before, and don't really intend to in the near future, as my muses are currently obsessed with Tales of Symphonia, not Weiss. Still, I had this idea late at night and wanted to write it, to try to do something that's new to me, if not to anyone else. So we'll see. Right, then…Cid! Disclaimer, please!

Cid Highwind: Sylvia doesn't &$#$&# own Weiss Kreuz, or Moulin Rouge, or that samurai show that she mentions, whatever the #&#$ it's called–

Sylvia: Rurouni Kenshin.

Cid: Yeah, that, and she doesn't $&#$&$# own me, either! #&$#!

Sylvia: Love ya, Cid. I promise I'll write you something with Vincent soon, okay? Anyway, on with the show!

Cid: Ya mean it? #&#$, I'm gonna hold you to that, you hear me?

* * *

Yohji watches him. He can't help it; the guy is beautiful, and even more so because he doesn't seem to know it. His slender figure, which would fit in Yohji's arms just perfectly, and on occasion has, when his reckless, fiery anger gets him injured. The pale skin that Yohji wishes he could touch, to find out if it's as soft and smooth as it looks. His vibrantly colored hair, so unusual in a person of pure Japanese descent, that Yohji wishes he could run his hands through…even at the same time that it reminds him vaguely of something he saw once in a children's anime, about another red-headed swordsman, similar only in appearance. The narrow eyes, so intense, so cold when he glares, so dead when they're on a mission, but so soft in those rare moments when he's caught off-guard…Yohji wonders what those eyes would look like filled with a passion other than fury, and then has to turn away, because the thought is far too enticing. 

And Yohji knows better than to approach him with any of this, knows what would happen if Aya found out he was being watched. Aya would throw a fit, and then Yohji wouldn't have even this guilty pleasure. So Yohji watches, and wishes, and wonders what it would be like if Aya were a little bit more human…until he realizes that the reason he loves Aya – and as sappy as it sounds, he knows that he does – is because the other man is, quite simply, perfect. A noble, tragic figure. Untouchable. And Yohji wouldn't dare sully that.

(But oh, he wishes he could.)

-

Aya watches him. He knows he shouldn't, but he can't help himself. The same glowing charisma that draws women toward him draws Aya as well, helpless as a moth fascinated by a candle. Long limbs and lanky figure, always as sure and graceful as the cat his codename suggests, whether slicing enemies to ribbons or moving through the crowd of fangirls as he makes sure not to give one any more attention than another. The flowing golden hair he prides himself on so much, which is just as beautiful as he seems to think it is…Aya wishes he could run his hand through it, feel its softness for himself. His smile, and green eyes that glance over those designer sunglasses, giving sultry looks that Aya would love to be on the receiving end of…the man is sex incarnate, and he knows it. Aya wishes desperately that he were half as alluring, so that perhaps he could attract the other man's notice.

But Yohji is a womanizer, a playboy. He doesn't like men, would surely be disgusted if he learned the depth of Aya's attraction to him. So Aya glares, ignores him, pushes him away, trying to appease the ache in his heart by being as cruel to the other man as he can bring himself to be. He stops before actually hurting the man, though, at least these days. He quickly learned that when Yohji is genuinely hurt, the look in those gorgeous eyes is akin to a kicked puppy, and that look makes Aya feel as though Yohji's running him through with his own katana. So he just keeps Yohji at a distance, afraid of being hurt.

(But oh, he wishes he didn't have to.)

-

Yohji watches Aya, when Aya isn't looking. This is fine, until one day, Aya turns around unexpectedly and catches Yohji watching him just as Yohji was once again imagining that lithe form close beside him. Yohji curses mentally, and turns away at the same moment Aya does, but not before he sees something odd…

_Was that…a blush?_

-

Aya feels a tingling on the back of his neck, and, being paranoid, turns around. Yohji is staring at him, with a look that makes his breath catch in his throat, and he knows he is blushing. He turns away quickly to hide his reaction, and to see what Yohji is looking at, because surely it isn't himself the glance is directed toward. He sees through the window a lovely woman walking past the shop, and nearly sighs. No, Yohji wasn't looking at him.

But the look he'd intercepted will fuel his fantasies for a long time to come.

-

Yohji knows it was probably nothing. Aya was probably angry at him for staring that way, nothing more. Still, he can't seem to forget it…he needs to be sure. And what is Yohji Kudoh, if not a master of subtle seduction?

That's his excuse, anyway, for finding ways to brush up against Aya in the shop, or let Aya catch him looking sometimes. In reality, he knows that he's simply relishing every contact, whether physical or just a look. And to his surprise, Aya doesn't push him away, or demand to know what he's doing; he just blushes, or moves away a little more hastily than necessary.

Yohji is intrigued. Maybe…just maybe, Aya isn't as untouchable as he thought.

-

Aya knows Yohji wasn't looking at him. And yet, he can't help wishing that he had been, wanting so much to be on the receiving end of that sultry gaze. The thought of it is almost too much to bear.

Perhaps that's what makes him hyper-aware of Yohji's presence. He starts noticing small touches, casual brushes that surely happened before that day; surely this is nothing new, because Yohji hasn't changed at all. And so he curses his awareness, his desperate hormones that make him blush every time Yohji looks at him (and Aya seems to be intercepting those looks more often now, but there's always some pretty girl that he's sure the look is directed at), that make him enjoy those brushes more than he should, so that he begins to pull away purely to stop himself from leaning into the other man's touch. He can't quite bring himself to push the gorgeous playboy away anymore. He's glad Yohji doesn't seem to have noticed his reactions…after all, if he had, Yohji would be avoiding being anywhere near Aya, rather than accidentally brushing up against him in the shop.

Aya is desperate. He's being driven insane by Yohji's mere existence, and the man doesn't even know!

-

Then, one day, it happens. They've had a lot of missions recently, and so none of them have been sleeping well. On this day, Ken manages to knock a heavy vase off the top shelf and onto his head; he is stunned by it, and has a nasty cut from one of the shards, so Omi takes him into the kitchen to bandage him up, leaving Yohji and Aya to manage the shop alone. Fortunately, it's a slow weekend, and the shop has been pretty much abandoned all day; their fanclub, it seems, is all on vacation.

Aya is tired, and there's no adrenaline rush to keep him awake and aware of what he's doing; that's his only excuse, later. So when Yohji leans down to reach something under the counter, pressing up against Aya a little bit as he does so, Aya instinctively leans into the touch and hums a little in the back of his throat. Yohji freezes, and Aya is instantly awake. Mortified, he rushes out of the shop, not waiting to see the look of surprise on Yohji's face.

Yohji feels as if he's in a dream. He considers pinching himself, then decides that if this is a dream, he'd really rather not wake up just yet. Instead, he goes over to the door and locks it, turning the little sign around so that it says 'Closed', and follows after Aya.

"Yohji?" Omi says from the kitchen table where he's still bandaging Ken's forehead, "What happened? Aya just ran by as if something was chasing him!"

"Don't worry about it, chibi," Yohji tells him reassuringly, "It's nothing. …Did you see where he went?"

"Up to the roof, I think," Omi replies, still looking worried, "Are you going to go check on him, make sure he's all right?" The tone implies that Yohji would be an idiot to consider anything else, and Yohji agrees.

"Yeah, I'll figure out what spooked him," Yohji reassures their youngest member, "You just make sure Ken hasn't lost any more brain cells. He's enough of a dumb jock as-is." With that, Yohji heads up to the roof, smirking as Ken's indignant shouting follows him.

He finds Aya on the roof, sitting with his knees curled up to his chest, and staring blankly at the horizon. "Aya?" he calls out, "Are you all right?"

Aya turns to Yohji, not quite meeting the older man's eyes, not wanting to see the disgust that he's sure he would find there. "I'm fine," he says, as distantly as he can manage, "I'm sorry about what happened. I assure you, the occurrence will not repeat itself." _Please, just let us forget about this…just don't hate me for it…_

Yohji blinks in surprise, then smiles a little, moving to catch Aya's gaze, making sure to put as much warmth into his expression as possible…it's not hard to do, at this point. "Really?" he asks in a low, sexy tone, and watches, amused, as a shiver runs through the younger man, "That's a shame."

Aya can't suppress a shiver of desire at Yohji's voice. Lost in the tone, and the amazing warmth of Yohji's expression, it takes a moment for the man's words to register properly. "You…" Aya murmurs, "you're…I thought you didn't like men?" He winces; he's babbling now, but his mind is too scrambled by Yohji's presence and proximity to come up with a coherent statement.

Yohji grins, hears Aya's breath catch in his throat at the expression, and wonders how he could have missed all of this for so long. "I like pretty things," he tells Aya, "I just thought you hated me." His expression grows serious, yearning, "I've watched you for so long…" a hand reaches out of its own accord and brushes Aya's bangs aside, lingering to cup one of his cheeks as Aya closes his eyes and leans into the touch.

"Why?" Aya whispers uncertainly, then opens his eyes to stare into Yohji's warm (_loving?_) gaze in confusion, "Why me? You…you're so attractive, so alive…you could have anyone you want…"

Yohji smiles gently, "And I want you. Gods, you're so beautiful…and you've got this fire about you, this passion…you keep it under wraps all the time, but I want to see it, want to feel it. I want you." Uncertainty darkens his expression, "If…if you don't want to…I promise, I'll never bother you again." He looks at Aya, hoping that he hasn't read this all wrong, and suddenly fearing that he has.

And his eyes are so pleading, so vulnerable, in that moment, that Aya can't resist, and suddenly he's kissing him, kissing Yohji, and Yohji is stunned for a moment, and then he's kissing Aya back. And Aya just melts into Yohji's arms, making a little noise in the back of his throat, the sound of which makes Yohji shudder and kiss him harder, more passionately, his tongue delving into Aya's mouth. And Aya is pressing up against him desperately, wanting more contact, and it's so good, until suddenly they remember they have to breathe. They pull apart for a moment, gasping for breath, arms wrapped around each other, unwilling to part more than a few inches. Yohji's expression as he looks into Aya's eyes suggests that he's just discovered the most marvelous thing in the world, and Aya is about to say something, when he hears someone clearing their throat over by the stairwell leading onto the roof.

They turn, in unison, to see Omi and Ken standing there. "Well, Omi," Ken says with a smirk, "I don't think we need to worry. It doesn't look like they've killed each other yet."

Omi's smirk is eerily identical, "No, it certainly doesn't." His expression changes into a happy grin, "I'm glad you two have finally gotten together. I was about ready to lock you both in a closet!"

Yohji and Aya look at each other, stunned, blink once, then turn back to look at Omi, then at each other again, and Yohji starts laughing. Aya smiles at him, and cuddles closer to Yohji, then gives Omi and Ken enough of a glare to send them scurrying away, before grabbing the front of Yohji's shirt and kissing him soundly. He reflects, briefly, on the thought that he's never been so happy to be wrong about anything, before giving in fully to the sensations and letting Yohji drag him downstairs into his bedroom.

* * *

…Upon re-reading, it's even worse than I thought it was. I think I will apologize, after all; I didn't remember how horribly sappy it was. I must have been in an unusual mood when I wrote this…but I'll post it anyway, and hope that someone likes it. 


End file.
